Welcome to RE:PRINT (the online archive of twenty-something-year-old-music-journalist-me for Minneapolis print publications City’s Tone and Pulse).

All articles feature never-before-published content, a guest editor and — in most cases — unseen images of the subject.

Below is a combination live review and interview with Dave Navarro, circa Trust No One. Dave was my first cover story and regarding Perry and he being in the news, thought this a relevant read.

Enjoy!
Brooke

TRUST NO ONE – SHOW REVIEW & INTERVIEW
by Brooke R. Calder
City’s Tone Music Monthly – October 2001
Guest Editor: Peter Scholtes
Photos By: J.Milton/Photos On Fire

Prowling the stage bathed in First Avenue’s searing scarlet lights, Dave sweats behind his white Paul Reed Smith Custom 24. Matching eggshell Euro-Lowboys and prayer candles flicker atop amps; clad in black, he cradles the mic to his lips and spins a devastating tale of drug addiction and romantic demise in “Very Little Daylight”.

“I only feel alone when I’m with you- I could never be all that you want me to…,” Navarro rhythmically concedes, closing his eyes.

In some moments, it feels like he’s confessing to Friar Lawrence. Others, as if he’s confiding in you, Dear Benvolio. Somehow, the lovers lived, but Juliet has betrayed him.  A guitar solo explodes with rage-kissed-sorrow and the crowd goes WILD.

During this Mainroom mania, however, every artist’s nightmare occurs. High-end shifts, the mix swells, mids and lows become muddy and threaten to envelop the rest of the song. An armful of fans scornfully glare at the sound booth; the Ave’s sound guy and Navarro’s team make all-knowing eye contact; fingers scurry across the giant Yamaha PM 3000 sound board while the band soldiers through “Mourning Son.” 

By the time they launch into “Rexall,” however, room sound is back on track and the show goes on to ALL the applause.

Standing behind the sound booth, watching band and tech crew both, something resonated: Dave’s on-stage reaction mirrored his life. He silently steamrolled through something incredibly shitty, then used it to create something bigger, better, stronger and faster.

The rest of the songs from his gritty debut glide by seamlessly: a sensual rendition of “Venus In Furs” drew long cat calls and “Sunny Day” was a beautiful, melancholy stand out that left a handful of attendees in tears.

DAVE NAVARRO – FIRST AVENUE NIGHTCLUB – 09/09/01 | IMAGE: J. MILTON/PHOTOS ON FIRE

After closing his emotionally charged set with X’s “Los Angeles”, Dave made time to catch up and proof our previously recorded interview. Here’s the transcript:

Brooke Calder: Trust No One underlines an incredibly intense period in your creative and private life. Did you have reservations regarding being that open about things?

Dave Navarro: Writing the songs from start to finish was a different side of things. More… intellectual. It was definitely an emotional purge. I had no reservations, you just can’t. Let me put it this way: A reserved artist isn’t an artist that speaks to me. 

BC: Speaking of unreserved artists, many readers are familiar with your work in Jane’s, Chili Peppers and your riffs on Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know.” Having been part of a band, a studio talent and now a solo artist, what are the pros and cons of each?

DN: I don’t think there’s any cons, just different aspects. Life is too short to focus on the cons!

BC: I like that. Slightly off-topic, but read you were in marching band. When did you join?

DN: The age of 11. I thought that would be fun to do… It was cool.

BC: You’ve recently been speaking out about the traumatic death of your mother. How the f* did you cope?

DN: Music was the one thing I identified with…

(An awkward moment passes. Refusing to pry in the manner I’d witnessed others doing, I shifted the conversation.)

BC: Dave, what’s your next tour stop?

DN: All over! St. Louis, Indianapolis… Later this Fall, I’ll be meeting up with Jane’s for some shows, then continuing tour on the West Coast.

BC: What’s the deal with the Diddy video? Please tell me you wrote those crunchy riffs in “Bad Boys for Life.”

DN: [Laughs] No. It was a video cameo- he called me up. It was a blast!

BC: Thinking about the digital age — downloads becoming a thing, artists being able to sell their own work — any advice for the new guys?

DN: Do what you love. For me, the intention isn’t about making money. I’ve been fortunate enough to make a living doing what I love, you know? But if I were a plumber, I’d still make music!

BC: Regarding contracts? 

DN: Hey, I could use some advice!

BC: I’ll put that in print. Surely someone will come out of the woodwork. Any other thoughts?

DN: It’s all about simplicity. Whatever you do, stay present.

BC: Final question. I create a scénarios étranges for each interview. Yours is: A giant asteroid is heading for Earth and the world is ending in 36 hours. Where are you going, who are you calling, and what will you do?

DN: 36 hours? Hmmmm… Definitely spending it at home with my girlfriend… Ordering like… 18 pizzas! [Laughs] 

Now off-record in the green room, we giggle. It’s clear that Romeo’s prior Juliet turned out to be Rosaline, and that Carmen (Elektra) is the sun. We briefly discuss Carmen’s Minneapolis connection and the glint in his eye tells me that he misses her tremendously.

Wrapping up, Dave compliments my watch and asks what else I do. Since he went there, I pull a Burning Shakespeare cassette from my bag. He inquires what it is; I share that I pen songs in response to others’ work (ex: “Sunday Afternoon”, in which the gal Greg Dulli addresses in “Debonair” tells her side of the story, etc.). He says he’s never heard of anyone doing that; I jokingly assure him I’m not that original. He chuckles, puts it in his bag, then sparks a Sobranie. I remark that David Bowie smoked that brand; signature grin, he offers me one. I politely decline but thank him, wish him a killer tour, then wiggle past Conrad with a nodding wink.

Home, I transcribe the taped portion of our conversation and begin to pen framework around it. Across town, my photographer friend Milty (a.k.a James Milton) — who documented the show — calls to confirm we’ve got a cover and set a time to review shots. We work tirelessly over the next day, wading through developed images and distilling commentary to accommodate the paper’s allotted space.

The following morning, I woke to frantic banging on my bedroom door and my housemate freaking out about a massive plane crash in New York. Thinking this one of his signature pranks, I don my fuzzy, teal bathrobe and sleepily shuffle downstairs, neon red hair mangled, plotting revenge.

On our TV in the living room, there it is: replay of United Airlines Flight 11 impacting the North Tower. Still half asleep, I suspect this is some sort of War of The Worlds style publicity stunt for a new disaster film. Assuming the on-screen story unreal, I follow the scent of coffee to the kitchen. Pouring a mug of Velvet Hammer, I yawn at the steam and stir my creamer in. Suddenly, my roommate screamed.

I ran.

Watching United Airlines Flight 175 slam into the second tower in real time, the final interview question I asked Dave echoed in my head like a DD-5 in overdrive. When the Pentagon was hit a half hour later, I contemplated what the next target would be; whether this were the end of America; if family out East were okay and rather strangely… whether Dave could to get to Carmen.

As reality set in, I spent the rest of the day monitoring CNN, clutching the phone and calling loved ones. I learned from my gff Clancy Ratliff that our former classmate David Jeffry was in the South Tower, but thankfully survived. Hundreds, however, had not.

The day after, an acquaintance who knew I’d interviewed Dave leaked that MTV were pulling the video for “Rexall“ due to the exploding buildings. I felt awful for him, but removing videos with potentially triggering visuals from rotation was probably the last smart thing the network did.

Like many of us, I’ve been waiting for who-knows-what-might-happen-next. It’s a palpably different world we’re living in, and the phrase Trust No One has taken on a terrible new meaning.

For now — at least — there’s pizza. And wherever they may be, I hope he and Carmen ordered one of every kind. 🍕

DAVE NAVARRO – FIRST AVENUE – 09/09/01 | IMAGE: J. MILTON/PHOTOS ON FIRE

DAVE NAVARRO – FIRST AVENUE – 09/09/01 – SET LIST

Very Little Daylight
Mouring Son
Rexall
Hungry
Venus in Furs
Heroin (Aborted)
Everything
Sunny Day
Not for Nothing
Slow Motion Sickness
Los Angeles

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